


the tenderest of hopes

by sugdensquad



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6538618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugdensquad/pseuds/sugdensquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert has given his evidence at the trial and heads home, unsure of the response he'll get, and finds solace in the arms of the man he loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the tenderest of hopes

**Author's Note:**

> I thought we all deserved something a little less heart-wrenching after today's episode, so wrote this in the space of twenty minutes.

He’s sat on a bench round the side of the courtroom, and in the distance there’s a football pitch, kids racing each other and laughing as they play. Robert turns from them, the pit in his stomach growling wide and open. 

The questions weren’t difficult, not as bad as he’d imagined. The prosecution went easy, the defence didn’t. Standard stuff, not that he’d had much experience with the inside of a courtroom, not as much as he probably should have done. But it’s not what they asked that keeps clawing at him. Not even the jurors staring blankly as he gave his testimony, picking apart every word as if they had no souls. 

Being up on that stand, hands shaking so badly he had to grip the rigid wood of the podium, clipped nails digging in until it hurt, he was suddenly struck by how terrible it must have been for Aaron. To stand across from the man who had… He can’t even bear to think it, but the acrid taste of bile rises in his throat and he leans forward, head between his knees, hoping to God he isn’t about collapse. 

He knows he needs to be strong now. When he gets back to the village, they’ll want to know what happened, what he said, what they said, how the jury reacted, if he thought it went well. He’ll have to pretend that he didn’t stammer over every line, that he didn’t almost blackout near the end because he caught sight of Gordon despite his best efforts. And what will he do if sees Aaron? Or Chas? What will he have to say to them, what words will he give that could even possibly comfort them now? 

The exhaustion is like cement slowly seeping along the broad plane of his shoulders, and he sinks back against the bench, placing a hand over his eyes to block it all out. He doesn’t even know what Liv and Sandra have said in court, whether Liv sided with her dad in the end, or stood by Aaron as she should have. He hopes for everyone’s sake, but no one more so than Aaron himself, that she did the right thing. That she didn’t let her brother down, not this time.

It takes him another ten minutes before he can muster up enough energy to stand, and then he’s back at his car, sliding into the cold, empty seat and turning on the ignition with a hard twist of his hand. He needs to be home, needs to know what’s happened.

The drive takes forever, narrow lanes overgrown with cow parsley and wild flowers winding endlessly towards the horizon, and he puts his foot down as he nears the sign for Emmerdale. The Woolpack carpark is empty and he drives into the first space, slamming hard on the brakes and clambering back out into the cold, evening air. 

He’s about to go inside when he stops, wondering if they’ll even want to see him. If it’s been a bad day, if Liv and Sandra haven’t done what they were supposed to, then the last thing they’ll need is him interfering. He’s not family, it’s not his place to be there with them.

His phone is in his coat pocket and he retrieves it, hand still infuriatingly unsteady as he types a quick message to Aaron.

_Just back from court. It went as well as can be expected. I’m outside. - R_

He sends it without reading it over, not wanting to over-analyse in case he bottles it. He leans against the car, fingers drumming across the metal door, wondering how long he should wait before heading back to Keeper’s Cottage. There’s a hush descended over the village, as if the universe is waiting with him for a reply.

And then his phone buzzes and he almost drops it in his desperation to read what’s in the text.

_Come round the back. - A_

It’s almost sickening, the relief which hits him like a freight train. He stumbles round the side of the pub, shoving his phone back into his pocket, and he’s nearly at the door when it opens. Aaron leans out, checking to see if Robert is there, still dressed in his suit, although it's slightly rumpled now.

“All right?” Robert asks tentatively, breath unfurling like smoke against the frozen air. For April, it’s bitterly cold, and he can feel his nose going red from the chill wind gusting passed him.

Aaron bites his lower lip, shrugging, shoulders hunched and tense, and Robert can read every crease, every line in his forehead as if he's a book. He doesn’t say anything else, just moves forward, one arm reaching out to pull Aaron close. He’s expecting a shove, or a mumbled refusal, but instead Aaron’s hands are gripping the lapels of his coat, and he’s trembling.

“I’m here,” he says simply, because what else can he say now? Promises of ‘it’ll be all right’ or ‘you’re doing great’ sound hollow to his ears, and he doesn’t want to say anything which might upset him further. Instead, he just tightens his grip, resting his cheek against the side of Aaron’s head, and strokes the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

They stay entangled for a while, seconds stretching into minutes, until Robert can’t even tell which parts are him and which are Aaron’s. They’re just one form, breathing in unison, connected in ways that can’t even be seen. But all too soon they pull back, and Robert can see Aaron is forcing down tears. He could say something now, or ask to come inside, but he knows he wouldn’t get the desired response, and he won’t push this any further. He’s happy enough to know he’s given Aaron even a moment’s peace.

“You need anything?”

He feels this is in the boundaries of 'safe', that this might not get him a slammed door in his face. Aaron looks up, eyes just pools of blue, and gives a short shake of his head.

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” His voice is low and hoarse and Robert aches to pull him close again, to place a hand to his back and soothe out every tired, aching muscle with gentle fingertips. But he can’t, he knows that, because it would be more about comforting himself than Aaron, and this isn’t about him.

“Okay, well… you know where I am.”

He steps back a little, giving silent permission for Aaron to close the door, because he can’t think of what else to say, and there’s no way to make this any easier.

Another blast of cold air hits him, snaking round his neck like a frozen cord, and he shivers. Aaron has began to close the door, but he’s not looking down at his feet, just staring at Robert, as if waiting for him to do something, say something.

“I mean it, you know?” he hears himself speak, and he doesn’t know where this is coming from. Aaron pauses in the doorway, enough of a gap that he can still see his face. 

“I’m here, no matter what. I’m not going anywhere.” He sounds determined, strong, completely unlike how he’s feeling, but it seems to have an effect. Aaron gives him a barely-there smile, but it’s more than he’s had up until now, and it sparks the first flash of hope he’s had in so long.

The door closes, and Robert moves back round to the main street, now desperate to get home into the warmth. He fishes for his keys, seeing that all the lights are off in the cottage, and feels his phone vibrate.

A text. From Aaron.

_Thanks for coming round. I needed it. See you tomorrow at the court? x - A_

Robert can barely breathe, shuffling up the steps to the front door, huddled against the wall as the wind whips up again. He battles against his numb fingers, forcing them to comply as he types.

_Glad I could help. I’ll wait for you outside the pub tomorrow morning. xx - R_

There’s so much more he could say, declarations of love, promises of commitment and loyalty, but none of that’s needed right now. He can say all that later, once this is behind them. Right now it’s enough that Aaron needs him, needs him enough to ask.

Robert unlocks the door and steps inside, the image of Aaron’s smile permeating through his mind, and the promise of a new day to send him off to sleep.


End file.
